Bane's Hench-Chick
by ThinkingOfPenNamesAreEvil
Summary: During TDKR. Rae Bishop, an ordinary chick journalist, gets swiped from her job by the new terrorist Bane. Oddly enough, she is a carbon-copy of Talia, causing a fair amount of confusion. She doesn't know what Bane's plans are for her, but there is one thing she is sure of. Whatever it takes, she has to live.
1. Dying Azaleas

The alarm began blaring, and I scrambled, grabbing my notebooks and loose pages that I had been working on for the past four hours. People scrambled. In the chaos, papers took flight like snow on a cruddy winter morning, littering the floor. The shouts began pervading the air.

"What the hell is going on?"

"Just get out!"

One woman, panicked, screamed, "Guns! I heard guns!" But by the time I had grabbed everything, the scrambling people had relocated, taking the chaos with them, leaving me with the alarm still blaring for company.

I rushed to the stairs, my glasses slipping off of my nose. Using my forearm, I attempted to push them up. I tripped, but I caught myself, papers flying everywhere. I rushed down the stairs, scrambling to grab them. A huge shadow overtook me, while I was on my knees grabbing papers.

"Talia?" the huge shadow asked. I spun around; his voice frightened me as it echoed through the stairwell.

I recognized him from the news articles that we, the journalists, had written on him. "Bane." The name got caught in my throat.

He jumped down to the landing I was standing on. "Come with me." I was lost for words, so I shook my head. He grabbed my arm and begun to drag me behind him.

I dug my heels into the ground. I rediscovered my voice. "No!" 'Wow that was loud,' I thought. He pinned my arms to my sides and tossed me over his shoulder, much like one would a bag of potatoes. I rested my head upside down and on his back. "Please," I squeaked.

He just went on running out of the building. He dropped me long enough to hop on his motorcycle. I momentarily hoped he would just leave me, but I wasn't so lucky. He pulled me on, my glasses began slipping again, and as I pushed them up, he took off. I slammed forward, trying to recover from jerking back, clawing into him and praying that I wouldn't fall off and die.

Eventually he slowed, finding his way and maneuvering his way through the town. Aside from him smelling good, I wanted to die. With the sudden turns and overdramatic weaving, death was emanate, and I only prayed that it came quickly and painlessly.

The motorcycle came to a stop, and I struggled to detach myself from him. He tossed me over his shoulder again, and I lifted my head enough to see other helmeted people come to take away the motorcycle.

"Who is Talia?" I asked. I could feel him tense up.

At the top of the stairs, he took a left, and at the end of the hall, there was a door. He flung the door open, my glasses began slipping. "Um, my glasses, they are…" Then they slipped off, and a crack sounded through the hall. Bane kept to pushing me into the dark room. I stumbled around, practically blind. Someone grabbed my arm and pushed me to a chair. I squinted, hoping to make out some defining characteristic, but it didn't work. The door slammed.

"Hello?" I called out. No one answered. My eyes strained, and my head ached. Using my hand to cover my eyes, I tried to stop my eyes from seeing and constantly attempting to adjust. I heard rustling and felt someone sit next to me.

"Hello?" I called out again. Whoever it was didn't move for what felt like forever. Something light dropped into my lap. I scrambled grabbing it, almost immediately I recognized the object. "My glasses," I gasped. Scrambling, again, this time to put them on. The door closed, but before whomever left, they had flicked on the light. I was alone, and the first thing that I noticed was my right glass lens was cracked. Great.

I observed the room around me. I was seated on an old couch; the fabric was worn thin at some points. There were two doors, one that I had probably come in through, and another behind the couch. The room had a small table and a cot with nothing on it, no blanket, no pillow.

"This is going to be great," I muttered standing up. I stumbled over to the door that I had come in and banged on the door. "Hey, I have to go home; I need my other pair of glasses. These ones are cracked." I kept banging but nothing came of it.

Eventually I stopped, I just got tired. Some terrorist dude broke into my work and found me in a stairwell and snatched me. Sadly, I knew the only thing that would miss me would be my azaleas, and they'd die before they called the cops.

I decided to explore; the second door was to a small bathroom with a single, bare light bulb. There was a shower, a toilet, and a sink. I was shocked to find a window. Overcome with desperation, I rushed at it, throwing it open.

An alarm began going off. My heartbeat sped up as I climbed on the sink, attempting to dive out of the window and onto the fire escape. The window was tiny, and I stupidly enough got stuck. My hips caught me and my eyes began to water as I pulled and I twisted, but I could not get through. My glasses began sliding dramatically off of my nose. I hated them.

Something, or someone, began pulling on my legs, unsticking me from the window. Bane set me down after I was entirely out of the window.

"I just wanted my other pair of glasses and a change of clothes." He just stood there, breathing. He wasn't as scary as he seemed on the television. He was huge though.

"I'll let you go home and get some things but no escape attempts, promise?" I nodded viciously. He reached around me, slamming the window shut, and the alarm suddenly stopped shrieking. He left me in the bathroom, and he only returned to lead a young woman approximately my age in. "Katrine will take you, behave."

I was surprised that I would be out, maybe I could escape. I nodded and grinned. This would be easy.

I was handed a helmet, and we were sent on our way. My first thought was to mislead Katrine to the police station as opposed to my house, but she seemed to know the way without me telling her.

When we reached my apartment, I thought that I'd be able to shake her, but she watched me like a hawk. I concocted a plan to distract her with conversation.

I began simply. "So what do you like to do for fun?" I asked, forcing a friendly grin. She shifted her weight. "That's…_interesting_. Katrine…that's an interesting name. What's its origin?" She lifted an eyebrow. "Oo-_kay_…so, your boss man…" She crossed her arms defiantly over her chest. "So, who's Talia?"

She glared me down. Her stare consisted of daggers, snowstorms, and other horrible things, so the weakling I was, I stopped trying.

I grabbed my backpack, but she shook her head so I slowly put it down. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt. I went to the bathroom, but after my first escape attempt, she made me dress in front of her.

I tossed on my Union Jack 'Keep Calm and Carry On' shirt, with my black jeans, and a pair of chucks. I grabbed my _not_ broken glasses and followed Katrine back to the motorcycle. My plan of escape failed, and I was caught like a rabbit in one of those box traps. Damn.

We returned quickly, and before Katrine locked me in again, I asked her for hair shears. She looked confused but complied.

I threw off my shirt, standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Without delay, I chopped, hacked, and sawed away my hair from lengthy to pixie boy cut short. Whoever this Talia was she looked like me, and that's why I was kidnapped; there was no way I'd continue to look like her. Maybe I'd be released sooner.

I sighed, looking into the mirror. My bangs were a little long, but I looked different. Mission accomplished.

I felt itchy so I picked up as much hair off of the floor as I could with my hands and flushed it before climbing in the shower. The water took forever to warm up, and there wasn't any soap. After I realized there wasn't any towels, I cursed everything halfway decent in the world while I attempted into clothes, wet.

When I returned to the main room, Bane sat casually at the small table. I suddenly became very self-conscious of my hair, and I ran my hands through it as I sat down.

"Not quite what I was expecting from a prisoner with scissors," Bane said, coolly. I refused to make eye contact, drawing circles on the table with my fingers.

He stood slowly and left me to my silence. Before the door closed, I looked at him. "Wait, when can I come out?"

Bane shook his head, nonchalantly.

He struck fear inside of me, somewhere deep, but I disregarded it, stupidly, of course. I laid down, thinking about how earlier I would have never thought I'd have ended up a captive.

Sleep washed over me, and I began falling. When I opened my eyes, it was Fear Night again. I had just left my boyfriend's crappy apartment. He lived in the Narrows. It was a misty night, and the air felt funny. I climbed a fire escape to get higher, hopefully reaching purer air. My boyfriend started acting crazy. He pushed me and I barely caught myself, but this time I fell and before I hit the ground I woke up.

I woke up to my own screaming, and judging by the person standing over me, I wasn't the only one. I struggled to breath in enough to keep my lungs supplied with enough air. A hand reached down stroking my face; I gasped and choked out, "Bane."

He sat down on the chair that had been pulled up. "It was just a dream."

"They never are," I chided. "They never are just dreams; they are memories."

* * *

He sat back, unable to supply a cryptic response. "What of?" he asked, remembering when he had been trapped in "The Pit" and Talia had had a nightmare. He never thought that both girls would be so similar, so frightened but unafraid, and so stubborn. Dichotomies unto themselves.

"Falling," she choked out, "I am scared to death of falling…I was there on Fear Night when all Hell broke out. My boyfriend mistook me for a zombie undead corpse of his dead ex-girlfriend; he pushed me off of the fire escape. I fell, time slowed, and it felt like forever." While she spoke, her eyes filled with tears. "I woke up in the hospital thinking I had died; unfortunately I hadn't."

* * *

Bane scooped me up, holding me tightly as I sobbed. I hated the fact that my captor watched and held me as I cried, reliving my "accident". I blamed Crane for my "accident", and one day I would re-pay him for my suffering.

As he held me, I gave in. "I feel like I have no purpose. No one notices me; I can be kidnapped and no one even cares. I just don't matter." Tears fell generously.

Bane grabbed my face, pressing his forehead to mine; he just stared into my eyes. I couldn't make out the color in the dark but something small, something instantaneous passed between us. It wasn't love; it wasn't anything other than an understanding.

"No one cared who I was until I put on the mask," he stated sensibly.

After a while, I curled up on his lap, him still holding me, and I slept, really slept for the first time in probably nine or ten years.

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**Lordlink13: Yay for the first chapter!**

**ThinkingOfPenNamesAreEvil: Shut up, Lordlink… **_**my**_** chapter, **_**my**_** story. Go deal with Shadow's drama.**

**Lordlink13: Before I go, Read and Review, readers!**

**ThinkingOfPenNamesAreEvil: Hey, Jerk, that's my line! Read and Review, guys.**


	2. Stock Exchange

Waking up was always the worst part of the day, and this morning, I woke up from the light streaming through the little window in the bathroom. I found myself alone, and I stared at the ceiling. The ceiling was white, and unlike the unusual ceilings I knew, it wasn't tile and it wasn't the popcorn stuff. It was just smooth.

The door opened, and I turned to look at Bane as he walked in. He was huge, very muscled, but his eyes were a deep blue color. He observed me as he stomped in my direction.

"We have a mission today." I looked at him, the confusion clearly evident, since he began to expound. "We have to break into the stock exchange and change the monetary status quo." I thought back to my little apartment, my pathetic paycheck, and the upper crust of Gotham. I looked into his eyes, his eyebrows rose.

"Let's do it." I had found a purpose; I thought of Robin Hood. I tried to brush the wrinkles out of my clothes and rubbed the sleep out of my hair. Bane left, and I followed him. "Wait, how am I to help?"

He looked at me, and I noticed a sparkle in his eye. "You'll write an article and send it to your editor." I nodded, following him out. Katrine handed me a helmet, and quickly, I clambered onto the motorcycle. The motorcycle was a sleek fast moving black vehicle. I clung to Bane, once more praying that I wouldn't fall off.

"Can we stop by my apartment so I can grab my press badge?" I asked, hoping to drop by my apartment just for a mo, maybe see if I could smuggle something out. We stopped but barely long enough to grab my press badge.

The helmet sat on my head, and I struggled with the feelings inside of claustrophobia. Bane stopped right before where we were headed. He quickly told me directions, and I hid the helmet in a bush. I hurried to the stock exchange.

I pulled out my press badge, and they allowed me to stand with the stock reporters. The commotion made it hard to focus on just one thing: so much movement, so many bodies, much like I imagine a beehive would be like.

Suddenly, shots sounded, and panic surged through the air. Woosh. Screams. Sudden heat. The beehive was filled with chaos. The sound of rapid fire and people dropping to the ground followed. The woman near me covered her head and began whispering a prayer, clutching the cross around her neck. I followed suit, dropping to my knees.

This wasn't what I was expecting. Anger surged through me, following my fear. Along with the shots, the explosion and sparks of screens filled the space above our heads. These damned terrorists. Bane claimed this authenticity, and yet his henchmen, they thrived off this senseless terror. This showmanship seemed unnecessary from where I sat, but who cared what little old me thought; I was just a damned hostage with nothing better to do than write an article for the head terrorist himself.

Not all too long later, Bane burst onto the scene. Something about him just held authority. even when he wasn't in his natural environment. Everyone fell silent: his guys, the stock peeps, and all of the reporters, even the praying woman next to me. The chaos just stopped in its tracks, paying respects to the man; he seemed less like a man and more like a pagan god.

Bane locked eyes with one man, still sitting in his chair, his obnoxious purple tie glaring. He was just asking for trouble. He strode over to him. "This is a stock exchange, there's no money you can steal-," the boyish man with his eyes wide said, trying to fight the fear obvious in his face.

"Shut up," I whispered, knowing he was asking for trouble.

"Why else would you people be here?" Bane retorted. He finished his stride to the boyish looking man and flung his chair into the large desk computer thing.

Ugh, technology, honestly never understood having a computer that looked complex as well as being complex; they were bad enough as is. Tangent. Sorry, I apologized to my thoughts.

I looked back up as Bane's heavy footed strides continued at the crowd of cowering reporters. He nodded at us, locking eyes with me. Damn, I had really hoped he had forgotten about me. I glanced around, no chance of that. I stuck out, a stubborn and less frightened citizen; everyone's relentless cowering did nothing to hide me. Damn. Damn. Damn.

Sirens screeched, getting louder by the moment. Cops were here, as useless as they were. Maybe this once they could do something right. A bald man with a laptop spoke quietly to Bane, "They cut the fiber. Cell's working."

'Nope, they still can't do anything right, thanks GCPD, remind me to screw you in my next article', I thought loudly.

"For now. How much longer does the program need?" Bane asked.

The heavily accented response was, "Eight minutes."

"Time to go mobile."

'He's gonna grab me, and drag me out with him' I thought. Nope.

I watched as they had begun to disappear; I quickly made my way to the door. I made my way to the spot Bane had left me. I stood, I waited, and eventually I sat. The day's warmth had began to cool, and I tossed the helmet, kicking it. I turned away walking home; it was a long way but what else could I do.

I trudged along, eventually arriving home. I went to hunt down some dinner; that was laughable. The only thing still good was bread and cheese. I wasn't expecting to not be home, so the food that was in the fridge had gone bad. Sadly I'd only have bread and cheese for dinner.

I pulled out the bread and set it down on the table. I just stared at it. I wasn't expecting to jump up or anything. Maybe I was just tired.

Eventually I gave up on the bread and just tore off a chunk, nibbling on the hunk of bread, slowly chewing. I wondered what I ought to write for Bane or if I even should.

I gazed at my door, realizing I hadn't locked it, stupid stupid me. I set down the bread and jumped up to deadbolt the door. I heard the security door being slammed. I held my breath, standing against my door; a white hot flash of pain struck me.

I laid on the floor, tears streaming from my eyes. I thought I had my eyes closed. I blinked a few times, but my vision was still dark. I could hear a gruff voice while I was scooped off of the floor. My floor.

I closed my eyes, hoping my vision would eventually return. I remained still, being jostled as my captor carried me down the stairs. I slowly opened my eyes, and light poured in, blinding me again.

"Are we outside?" I asked.

"Yes." Finally, it clicked the gruff voice belonged to Bane.

"You left me. I went back and you left me. Now you come and hit me with my own door. Why?"

Bane rearranged me in his arms. "Can you walk?"

"Why, am I heavy?"

"No, but you might be concussed." I shrugged. Concussed or not, I had been hit with a door. Bane set me down, and I wobbled, trying to stay upright.

We made a quick escape to Bane's hideout. I was forced to walk up the stairs, my vision still not back. I stumbled quite a bit. Even with my vision at its best, stairs weren't my forte. After my treacherous venture up the stairs, I was propped up on the couch. Sleep sounded great; my brain had begun to slow, getting muddled.

"Don't fall asleep."

I waved off the voice, "I want to sleep".

"You cannot."

"Well, I won't stay awake." I said, resting my head on the back of the couch.

"Up."

"What?" I asked, turning my face toward the voice.

"Get. Up."

"No," I said indignantly. I refuse, no way some jerk in a mask is gonna injure me and then boss me around. Two huge hands grabbed my by my shoulders and lifted me up. I shook my head. "I don't want to."

"Walk," the voice demanded. I attempted to follow orders, bumping into things. Eventually, Bane took pity on my pathetic soul; he grabbed my arm and led me around the room.

"I really don't understand you. You pledge that you are trying to relieve the citizens of this damned city, and yet you only seem to cause them pain and strife. You just agitate the city, causing chaos and terror. Why?" I asked.

I heard his breathing slow and calm, as if I had only asked the weather. The room grew brighter and brighter until the color began to return. My vision. Awesome, I blinked a few times. I stopped walking and turned up my face, looking into his eyes. They were crisp and a cool light blue.

"They don't see. I am releasing them from the invisible bonds that chain them to the dark and dreary lives that they live."

That was it. He thought he was releasing people, giving them a choice otherwise kept from them. I was angry at him, but I also understood. I was walking what in my mind would be a dangerous line.

* * *

**Thinking****OfPenNamesAreEvil: Hey guys... sorry, Life just seems to like eating up all my time and I'll do better... I hope. Read and Review. **


	3. Rebellion

She struggled, holding pen and paper in hand. The expectation was that magical words would flow from my pen on the page, painting a perfected image of what had occurred yesterday.

"Your expectation is unrealistic," Rae told Katrine. She simply ignored her, a theme she noticed with her, setting out clean clothes and a towel.

"Shower quickly, you are expected to be productive today." It had been a fair amount of time, Rae sitting with a pen and paper, her standing with a pen and paper, her lying down with a pen and paper. Nothing. Nada. Niks. Rien.

"What if I refuse?" She suggested, slamming down the tools of her craft. Katrine turned to her, attempting some sort of concoction between a smile and a grimace.

"You will not refuse. Trust me." Katrine left. Grabbing the towel and clothes, Rae headed into the bathroom.

Turning on the water, she whispered, "You do _not_ know me, I may just be stupid enough to refuse." Showering slowly was the first sign of rebellion, and she would be sure to continue.

Eventually, her hands were wrinkly. Disgusting feeling, probably the worst ever. So she climbed out of the shower leaving the water running so it sounded like she was still showering. Rae dressed reasonably quickly, sitting down on the bathroom floor, she cycled through ideas of how to write about this Robin Hood-esque terrorist.

Katrine stomped out into the hall, and down it to find Bane. Katrine had her usual look of indifference, although she was anything but.

"She is attempting to suggest that she will refuse to be the pawn that she is, today," Katrine said, her words filled with the contempt she felt with Talia's doppelganger. It was the same deep seeded hatred that she held for Talia. Bane sat on a steel stool at the bar where a small laptop was perched.

Bane thought for a mo. Her disregard for consequences paralleled that of one person he had ever known: himself. He knew this to be the reason that the League of Shadows sent him on his way; he had been too reckless. This made her an asset as well as possibly causing his downfall.

Bane rose and shut the laptop. "Let's collect her. She has things to accomplish today."

There was a crash against the bathroom door, and Rae nearly escaped its vile path. Twice in twenty hours that she got smacked upside the head by a door. Katrine stepped over her, shutting off the shower with a quick snap. She stepped out of the bathroom, and Bane stepped in, grabbing Rae by her shoulders and dragging her out.

Standing, Rae realized how ill fitting the clothes were, but she was in no place to ask for favors. Katrine shot her dirty looks as Bane dragged her behind him.

Rae couldn't help herself; the little kid in her won out, and she stuck her tongue out at Katrine. She looked appalled. For a terrorist, she was such a stuffed shirt. Rae was dragged down the stairs, out of the apartment building; she hadn't noticed until now, but she hated being dragged like a rag doll. Enough was enough.

"Put me down, dammit. I'm not a doll. I am a journalist, first and foremost, but secondarily, yet not any least, I am a human. Put me down." Okay, so maybe her priorities were a little skewed, but still. Bane set her down. His eyebrows furrowed, either with shock or with anger, she prayed for the first option.

Rae sat down like a child and putting her face in her hands. She just wanted to go back to being invisible, being alone, being forgotten. She knew that'd be a long shot; She'd probably end up dead before that happened. Rae, unbeknownst to most who knew her as an adult, was that girl who was always found crying, even in high school. It didn't matter what she was feeling, anger, happiness, sadness, or even just feeling overwhelmed.

And that was her now, she was overwhelmed. Everything was washing over her like the waves of the ocean; all she wanted was her shitty apartment, her shitty plant, her empty fridge. The child version of herself decided to reappear, causing Rae to appear weak.

Katrine grabbed Rae by her collar, lifting Rae to her feet. "You imbecile, stop being useless. You never change, do you?" Something about Katrine's whispered words made no sense; she didn't even know Rae.

Anger surged through Rae. Katrine reminded Rae of her mother, no more, a few extra tears fell. Out of nowhere, Rae's rage got the better of her. She slapped Katrine. She'd had it. Enough, no more._ You want to be a bitch, I'll show you what it's like to be a real bitch, I'll be the bitchy-iest bitch you've ever met._ Angry Rae was much less fluid with her words and sentences, obviously.

Rae couldn't contain herself. She slapped her again, and before Rae got a third hit in, Bane grabbed her and pushed her to the side. A barely audible hiss was emitted from Katrine's face. Rae ignored it, stalking back up the stairs, returning to her prison. They can do it themselves. She knew what to write.

_The Stock Exchange vs. Bane: An inside account from the biggest terror hit this year_

_The Terrorist Bane, a modern-day Robin Hood, hit the Stock Exchange yesterday, funneling all of billionaire Bruce Wayne's funds. To his dismay, he's broke, but for the poorer, less-funded portion of Gotham, no one is bothered. Bane's motivation is not yet apparent, but I don't believe that he is finished yet. Police have no clues, even though the knowledge of who committed the crime is evident. Come on, Gotham Detectives, how long do we have to wait before he's caught? Are you _even _capable? ... _

After hours of writing and editing, Rae emerged, finding Bane asleep on the floor right outside her door. Even with him on the floor, he was huge. Fear nipped at her heels, the epic debate ensuing over if she ought to wake him up. She really wanted to go home so she figured waking him up was _her_ option. She knelt down, paper still in hand, and lightly tapped on Bane's shoulder. Electricity shot through her.

_Stupid girl_, her thoughts mocked. Bane didn't stir, and Rae became impatient so she wrote him a note and set it down next to the sleeping terrorist, and she walked down the stairs, leaving him and the building behind. The need for a chocolate shake and her real clothes overrode the self-preservation thought process altogether.

Stalking out of the building slowly, Rae realized that she did not know the area. She lived in Gotham her entire life, and she had not a clue or an inkling of a concept about this side of town; so she made random lefts and then random rights until she found a street that she recognized.

Finally, she came across a place that looked like they sold shakes. She slunk in and ordered a shake to go. She looked up at the screen to see her picture plastered on the screen. Patting the pocket that the article was in, she turned and sped out of the shop and raced even faster home.

Some idiot decided to care for the first time ever. She'd have to call the cops and tell them that she wasn't missing. It just seemed like more effort than it was worth.

Finally managing to find her way back to her tiny apartment, she quickly located her laptop, and she typed her article in a flash, submitting it to her editor, hopefully in time for tomorrow's edition. Journalism was all about reporting about it before anyone else. No one cared if you were second or last, being second was being last.

The Editor sent her an email, confirming her article and saying it'd be printed. She didn't really care, and it wasn't really approved by the bossman, but Rae had stopped caring. He could kill her, she was done with being bossed around, by him, by her job, by her mother, by seemingly everyone.

Katrine burst onto the scene like a ball of fury. Rage burned in her eyes. She kicked Bane as he slept; she could not contain the fury.

The rage was not simply because the prisoner escaped but all the rage that Talia and this little insolent new girl had caused. Bane had been hers before Talia returned to the pit for Bane; Bane had been hers before all this League of Shadows bullshit. Bane would be hers again once his thirst for vendetta and irrational "freedom" for these people had been pacified.

Bane woke with a start, not fully understanding what had happened. She kicked him again before he rose to his feet. The note next to him became evident. Katrine scooped up the note and read it.

"Good, her use was limited now in any case," she said with an angry sniff. Leaving the note with Bane, she stalked off.

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**ThinkingOfPenNamesAreEvil: Poor, poor Katrine. Anyway, she'll survive, I suppose... Hope everyone's enjoying summer-esque weather, and probably not having classwork. Read and Review.**


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